


The End

by autumndynasty



Category: Okami
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 21:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumndynasty/pseuds/autumndynasty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nippon won't remain the same forever, but perhaps change isn't always something to be feared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirisame (taotrooper)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taotrooper/gifts).



> First of all I must make an apology – Dear requester, this was the only request I felt brave enough to attempt and I haven't even finished the game!
> 
> As a result, things may be a tad OOC/AU, but I have tried to get things as close as possible using whatever information I could find. That said, I hope you enjoy your gift!

_And they flew away in the Ark to the Celestial Plain. _

_And lived happily ever after._

_The End. _

-

Life never ends so neatly. _'The End'_ indeed. There's no such thing, even where Gods are concerned. _Especially_ so. Amaterasu has always known there's no end to life, for neither Gods nor mortals, and there's no end to the work.

There's no end, but there are changes.

Amaterasu will never change. She knows this, too. Gods are eternal. They may take a different form every so often, but at their heart and within their soul, they are ...ineffable. Constant and never-wavering, for better or worse.

But the thing about change is...

Without it, she cannot adapt.

-

Waka can almost see the future. Sort of.

It stretches out in front of him like a ribbons, flicking and snapping in the wind with sharp grace. They're ribbons made entirely of words; jumbles of letters that Waka reaches into and pulls out sentences. Sometimes they're coherent and sometimes they aren't.

The only person he's ever had to please is himself.

But now, the world is changing and even Waka can't recognise some of these new words that have started to appear. Amaterasu flicks her tail with increasing agitation at every cryptic prophecy.

It's been centuries. They couldn't have expected Nippon to stay the same forever.

-

Amaterasu snuffles in her sleep.

She's been doing that more and more lately. Sleeping. There's no real days or nights as such on the Celestial Plain, but his friend has never needed an excuse to nap. What concerns him (yes, it does) is her lack of energy. Her playfulness dwindles by the year. The arrogant streak remains in her bearing when she holds her head high, but Waka can hardly fault her for a trait they have in common.

The prophet may not be able to foresee so accurately anymore, but he knows some of what is coming.

The world is growing up.

And like a boy becoming a man and leaving the home of his ancestors, the people of Nippon are forgetting the Old Ways. Forgetting their customs and their Gods. They're forgetting their mother, and for Amaterasu, much more than for him, the loss of belief is a loss of strength.

-

She'll never truly die. Gods never change. She's eternal.

But the red is beginning to fade into white, even as the Sun shines ever brightly.

Amaterasu wakens from her fourth nap of the day to find Waka sitting nearby, lightly clutching Pillowtalk and studying it in thought. Using her teeth, she tugs on one pink sleeve and cocks her head to one side with a snort.

"They're going on to bigger and brighter things, ma chère."

-

But surely there's nothing brighter than the Sun?

Surely not.

-

She doesn't think machines are an inherent evil. Not at all. If they were, waterwheels and carts would be too. Perhaps it's dependant on the complexity and source of power, such as water or human effort or Evil.

Or something even a God can't understand.

Whatever they may be, machines are something that are here to stay. The ones Amaterasu thinks of, born of the Moon, are foreign to this land. But aren't all things, in the beginning? If you go back far enough, there was always a first and they always came from somewhere else. Give it enough time, and anything can become natural. It can adapt to it's new landscape.

And it leaves her behind.

-

They've had enough conversations about it. Almost weekly, in fact.

Last time, they had both been lying under a cherry blossom sky, listening to the song of the winds. The Celestial Plain was as it should always have been then; peaceful, but not empty.

It is so _very_ often empty. And then Waka broke the peace with a half-garbled prophecy.

Just like last time. The time before that, it had been at Amaterasu's prompting. Meaningful looks at the Ark, and all it represented.

-

Darkness is eternal, just as Light is. Everyone knows you can't have one without the other, and although Yami is destroyed, darkness never will be.

It exists within every fear and insecurity in the hearts of men. It screams from every demon that still walks the hills and valleys, and it whispers in every tick and whirr of every new machine.

But they're not evil. Just variations on a theme.

Change.

Some have described Yami as a creature as lifeless and barren as the moon. The moon and the machines it spawned so many centuries ago. He's as close to being, and yet so utterly opposite to a God that he is, for all intents and purposes, eternal himself. He's the necessary balance that keeps the world in check, rotating on it's axis and preventing stagnation.

It provides the motivation for change in others.

-

Amaterasu is asleep more than she is awake, these days. And when she is awake, she may not bound along, flowers trailing in her wake, but she does not crawl. Neither of them will stand for that.

"Ah, but you needn't worry, ma chère."

Amaterasu inclines her head, looking to the roof of a nearby pavilion. Waka taps his fingers on the decorative guttering, then floats down to her, landing softly on the grass.

"People forget many things, but there always comes a time when people remember again. It comes to them, like petals on a summer breeze."

But for once, Amaterasu cannot see the path before her. This is perhaps the most frightening thing of all; a lack of purpose.

"You may not believe in me, Amaterasu-kun, but I shall continue to believe what I can see before my eyes." Waka's hand strays to Pillowtalk at his side. "You already know people return to the Gods when times are hard. And they will be."

The white wolf (for this is all she looks to be, now) sits, her tail thumping lightly on the ground.

Perhaps he has a point. They will remember once nature itself begins to fade. They'll realise the importance of the Gods and she can return to her true form.

All they have to do is wait for change.


End file.
